


Cotton Tail

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Daddy Kink, F/M, PWP, Shower Sex, Smut, dressing up, role play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 17:03:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11490762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: Written for an Easter challenge, just late to upload it here.





	Cotton Tail

The newspaper was spread across the hood of the truck as you perched delicately on the edge, a donut in your mouth and a full coffee holding down one edge. Scouring the article, you neglected to hear John approaching until he was right up against you, grinning in that irritating manner he had.

“Got anything good, Kitten?” he asked, and you felt your cheeks colour at the nickname.

“Three witnesses…” you paused, pulling the donut from your mouth and looking up at him. “Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

You shrugged, taking another bite of the sweet treat, chewing thoughtfully and making him wait for an explanation. John didn’t seem to mind, and waited patiently, sipping at his own coffee. “There’s the two wives. They weren’t there, but we can at least speak to them about behaviours etc.” He nodded as you spoke, keeping his eyes focused on you. “And the owner of the store next door who was locking up and heard screams. He found the body.”

“The half eaten body.”

With a nod for affirmation, you screwed up your face. “Same M.O as the first. Mostly eaten, but enough left to recognise the vic. Whatever did it eats quickly.”

John chuckled. “Any theories?” Another bite of your donut accompanied a shake of your head, and he sighed. “Gotta admit, it’s not one I’ve come across before. I mean, the gentleman’s club is the place to start. But didn’t the articles on both murders say they were with groups?”

“They were, but both groups were too intoxicated to remember where the victims went. We can speak to the staff at the club but from what I understand, it’s pretty exclusive.”

John nodded, scanning the newspaper for himself as you finished your donut. “Well, it’s early, so we’ll hit the wives first.”

“Maybe you should do that on your own,” you commented, balancing yourself with your hands before hopping daintily down from the hood. He frowned at the suggestion, tilting his head as to question you inaudibly. “I mean, you’ve got the sexy older man thing going on. I… I don’t quite pass for a proper agent yet, judging by that last case.”

His gaze darkened. “That guy was a pervert.”

“True, but what he said was valid. It doesn’t help I’m pretty short.” You smiled, patting him on the shoulder, trying to ignore the sparks that seemed to shoot up your spine at the simple contact. “Come on. The ladies love your smouldering Winchester looks. You’ll get more out of them than me, I bet.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “What are you gonna do?”

“Canvass. Speak to the store owner. I can pose as an indie crime blog or something. You know, trendy like the kids do.”

“Y/N…” John rolled his shoulders, the sound of your name dragged out like a parent scolding a child, and you stood your ground, looking up at him with wide imploring eyes, the hint of a smile on your lips.

“Look, I know I’m new at this John, but you’re training me, right? Besides, it’s broad daylight - what possible trouble could I get into?”

*****

Spring sunshine beat down on Main Street as you strolled along the sidewalk, your bag slung over your shoulder. You’d been careful to dress like someone who would run a blog, and hopefully you could get some answers without arousing too much suspicion. It wouldn’t hurt to try this method; the comments that had been made during your last attempt at a federal officer were weighing too heavily on your mind to let you even think about trying that route.

John’s reaction to the man was playing on your thoughts too. He’d been almost violent in his response, telling the man to back off after he’d laid a hand on you; you’d been too shocked to react how you wanted to. It’s not like you expected someone to fondle your ass when you were interviewing them about a murder; if you’d thought that would even be slightly possible, you’d have been on guard and the guy would have had a broken nose for his troubles. As it was, John was close to doing to the job for you.

Things had changed since you’d first started hunting with John. You were a child of the life, with an absentee father, who never bothered to train you beyond protecting yourself; your mom had disappeared long before that. John had turned up to help your dad with a vengeful spirit, and had been witness to the millionth fight about your ability to hunt.

Somehow, you’d managed to get yourself on the hunt with them, with your dad trying to prove a point about your lack of ability. But that had backfired right in his face, ending with you saving their asses, and John praising you. He hadn’t quite expected your father to throw you out on your ear for it, and he definitely hadn’t expected to find himself standing up for you.

And that was how he’d offered to train you until you were ready to go your own way.

The first few weeks, he’d been disgruntled, unused to sharing his space. You knew he’d been hunting with his two sons originally but Sam had gone off to college, and Dean, who was around your age, was off doing who knows what elsewhere. Occasionally, he’d speak to his eldest on the phone, or point him in the direction of a case, but you had yet to meet him. It had been a quick learning curve not to mention Sam - John didn’t get angry, but you’d figured out that it dampened his mood, and you didn’t like to feel as if you were hurting him by bringing it up.

You’d been clumsy, at the start, but eager to learn, and John seemed to fall into the routine of teaching you everything. At times, he acted like a drill instructor but most of the time he was a pretty good teacher, not that you had much to compare it to. He’d walked you through field stripping and cleaning weapons, and you struggled to forget the memory of his large hands covering yours as he’d showed you the smaller mechanical components, and later, adjusted your posture for firing correctly. That was one you couldn’t shift - the curve of his larger frame against your body as he instructed you how to control the recoil after a shot, the husky pitch of his voice in your ear… everything still made you shudder. There had been a few cold showers since.

There was no denying your attraction to John Winchester, even if he was literally old enough to be your father. But along with that attraction came the fear of him acknowledging it, of fucking this entire thing up; mostly, of being abandoned again.

Breaking away from your thoughts, you spotted the gentleman’s club up ahead, the neon signs all turned off in the midmorning sun. Next door, the pawn shop was brightly coloured in yellows and greens, with the sign on the door proclaiming that it was open in large black letters. You sucked in a breath, before plastering a smile on your face and walking in.

The greasy owner of the store was not forthcoming with answers to your questions, but he did relent when you asked to see the CCTV footage from the night of the attack. He’d insisted that he’d seen a girl dressed as a bunny with a man in the alleyway while he was putting the trash out, about ten minutes before the screaming.

“A bunny?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as he nodded. “Like, the easter bunny?”

The store owner shook his head. “No, like one of them girls next door. You know, corset, high heels, fluffy little cotton tail on her ass - like a playboy bunny. Look, there she is.” He pointed at the screen where the video footage was playing, and before the footage cracked up into static, you caught a glimpse of a womanly figure with bunny ears and a rabbit tail.

Your mouth formed into an “o” shape as he explained, and you glanced out of the windows of the store over at the gentleman’s club. “Do you know if anyone will be in the club this time of the day?”

He shrugged. “I guess Harry might be there. He’s the owner. Or Ralph, his manager. Depends how much they took last night.” He looked around, rubbing at the back of his head, over his thinning hair. “Are we done here? I got a lot of work to do.”

You nodded, smiling and thanking him for his assistance before backing out of the store, standing on the street for a few moments, wondering whether to go back to the motel, or try the club. Curiosity and a desire to impress John got the better of you, and you crossed the alleyway quickly, knocking on the trade entrance to the large dark building.

For a few seconds, you waited, hearing nothing. Rapping your knuckles on the wood again, it was followed by cursing from inside, and a split second later, chains rattled against the door as someone fumbled to get it open. A man opened the door, glaring at you with beady little rat eyes.

“You here for the interview?” he grunted, and you opened your mouth to answer. “You’re a bit drab, but I suppose beggars can’t be choosers. Let’s hope you got the goods.”

“I’m sorry?” you spluttered, unsure of what he was insinuating.

“The job opening. For wait staff,” rat-man said, speaking slowly as if you were deeply stupid. 

“Oh,” you replied, before shaking yourself. “Yeah. Yeah, I mean, I’m here for that. Yeah.” You gave him a smile, and he rolled his eyes, standing back to let you in. “I’m Y/N.”

“Ralph. This way,” he barked, shutting the door and pushing past you to head down the dingy corridor. “Shifts are eight until one. Pay is seven bucks an hour, plus whatever tips you make.”

“Okay.” You looked around as you walked, taking in the general disrepair of the building and grimy looking walls, wrinkling your nose in distaste, before smiling when Ralph turned to you again.

“Costume is provided, but you’ll have to check your size. Dressing room is through here, main bar is through there.” He pointed in each direction and you nodded. “You can start tonight. We’re short since… well, we’re short.” You blinked, opening your mouth to ask if that was because of the murders, but shut it again as Ralph narrowed his eyes. “Get here early. The other girls will fill you in on your duties. We pay cash at the end of the night.”

“Don’t I have to do an application form or anything?” you asked, feeling a little stupid saying it, and Ralph chuckled.

“What d’ya think this is? Honey, you’ve got a nice ass and a rack on ya. Men don’t care for much beyond that in here.” Your mouth open and shut repeatedly as you tried to process his slimy words, and he laughed again at your reaction. “I’ll tell Shelly to expect you here at seven. She can show you the ropes. Now, I’ve got shit to do.”

You nodded, not arguing as he showed you out. As the door to the club slammed behind you, you paused, unsure of what you’d just agreed to, but at least you had a way in. Now you just had to figure out how to explain this to John…

*****

Shifting in the uniform, you glanced at John as he climbed out of the truck, grinning widely. He hadn’t managed to get anything out of either widow, and it had come down to visiting the morgue to check on the actual bodies for any clues. Your earlier apprehension at wearing the FBI get-up was still there, but John Winchester was never short on ideas for fooling the authorities.

Absently, you scratched at the patch on your sleeve. The uniform was a little on the large side, probably because it had previously been used by Dean. John never threw away anything that he thought could possibly have a use, and as animal attacks were the normal dismissal of any monster case, animal control officers were a great cover.

“You ready?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, smiling tightly at him as he took the lead, heading into the hospital. The morgue was clearly signposted from the entrance, and there were very few people about, so it was easy to slip down there with no concerns from anyone.

On the desk downstairs, a young blonde jock sat chewing on a piece of jerky, his feet on the desk as he read a Flash comic. He didn’t look up until you and John stopped at the desk, waiting for him to notice you. Obviously, visitors were rare, as he looked completely bewildered to see anyone in the dingy corridor.

“Can I help you?” he asked, pulling his feet down and sitting up. John flashed his identification at the kid, who raised his eyebrows at the both of you. “Animal control?”

“We need to check the bodies that came in,” John explained, his tone authoritative and not a little arousing. You squirmed uncomfortably as the boy flustered, confused. “The animal attacks?”

“Oh!” Understanding dawned on the kid’s face, and he smiled. “Sure, go right on in. Paperwork is with the bodies.” He returned to his comic, and John looked at you, one eyebrow arched. This was possibly the most lax morgue you’d ever been to, but you weren’t going to argue, and quickly followed John into the morgue main room.

The cabinets containing the bodies were few, and after finding one little old lady who’d died of a heart attack, you quickly located the drawers with the two partially eaten bodies of Andrew Castle and Simon Denby. Both bodies were in various stages of consumption, and you recoiled at first, as John chuckled.

“You get used to this bit,” he said, his hand briefly brushing along your lower back and hip before he handed you some surgical gloves. The shiver that made you close your eyes for a second seemed to go unnoticed by John as he picked up the paperwork with Andrew’s body. “Heart is intact. Not a werewolf, check.”

You dragged the gloves onto your hands and poked delicately at the torn flesh of the body’s torso, grimacing as it squelched. “Plenty of blood left. Not a vampire. Whatever it was, it did not care what part of him it was eating. And it had strong jaws - these bones have been chomped right through.”

John made a face as he put the paperwork down, moving to the next body. You followed suit, finding Simon’s body less eaten but more gruesome somehow. “This was the second victim,” John said, picking up the paperwork. “Both of these guys died of shock, not their actual injuries. And from the witness statements, this happened quick. So we’ve got something strong, and fast.”

Something caught your eye as you prodded the bitten and chewed flesh of the second body, and you frowned, lifting up a partially eaten rib. “What’s this?” The solid object was not part of any anatomy you’d seen in high school, and as you held it up, John came closer. “Looks like a tooth.”

“It looks like a shark tooth,” he corrected. “Serrated edges. Easy for biting through bone.”

You felt a bit sick as you held it, and John turned, picking up an evidence bag from the nearest trolley and dropping it in. “Are we looking for a landshark or something?”

John chuckled. “No. But I know someone who might be able to help.”

*****

“This can’t be right,” you murmur, flicking through your research with one hand, the other twirling the tooth in your fingers, attempting to remain oblivious to John’s heated gaze. “This says Patasola are jungle dwelling demons.”

John thought for a moment before shrugging. “Well, I suppose urban jungle counts? I mean, all the deaths were men lured away from parties. And they were all found half-eaten. Succubi don’t do that.” He paused. “Bobby knows his shit. Patasola are the only monster he’s heard of that have serrated teeth and match all the points we’ve figured out.”

“Says beheading will do the trick,” you said, looking up. “We just gotta figure out which one of the bunnies is going all Monty Python on us.”

“Bunnies?” John questioned, and you blushed, looking away from him.

“You know I said I spoke to the club manager?” He nodded, and you shifted under his scrutiny. “Well, he kinda offered me a job. As a waitress, or something.” John narrowed his eyes. “It’s a way in. Unless you can conjure up a membership -”

“We can find another way.”

“In the next hour?” you pointed out, and John sighed. “John, it’s a way in. It’s just a few hours, until we gank this thing, and then I’m out.” He watched you for a moment, clearly considering the situation and a deep frown settled onto his face. “I can do this.”

Seconds of silence ticked between as you gazed at him earnestly, and he sat back, exhaling heavily. “I know you can, Kitten. I just don’t want you to do this thinking you gotta prove something to me.”

You smiled gently, shaking your head. “I’m not. I promise.”

“Okay.” He slapped his thigh, before standing up and you couldn’t help taking an appreciative long look at his ass as he moved away. “I guess we’d better formulate a plan of action. And quick. I don’t suppose there was anything in there about identifying the thing?”

Shaking your head, you turned back to the book. “No. But apparently it has one leg? That might make it easier to distinguish.”

“Or it could look like anyone.”

“Hmmm,” you agreed, flicking through the research with a frown. “There’s not a whole lot known about them. We’re gonna have to go on instinct and careful observation.”

John grinned, pulling his machete from his bag and holding it up, running one thumb along the edge as you stared. His eyes met yours and you blushed furiously, before looking away. “Alright, Kitten. Let’s get you in, and get this done.”

*****

You looked ridiculous.

Wobbling a little on the heels that Shelly had given you, you appraised yourself in the full length mirror, unsure what to make of what she’d done to you. She was a nice enough girl, obviously dead inside with the job she was working to make ends meet, but nice either way. The makeup she’d put on you was a lot heavier than anything you’d ever worn before, although you kind of liked the way your lips popped with the cherry red lipstick. That aside, the corset was tight, and your breasts were barely contained in the fabric, and your ass was much the same.

“Hey,” Shelly called, popping her head around the door. “Club opens in five. You look fine, honey. Come on out, and I’ll show you where you need to be.”

You nodded, tottering out in the three inch heels. They were the smallest ones Shelly had, and you had to concentrate on walking in them, but after a few feet, you’d stopped shaking so much. Shelly was wearing shoes that almost looked like stilettos and you marvelled at how she moved so well.

“This is the main bar area. Customers sit over there,” she pointed to the leather seating dotted all around the open hall, “and the entertainment is on the stage.” You followed her gesture, seeing the small stage with the pole in the middle. A lump formed in your throat, and you nodded in acknowledgement. “You take the drink orders, go to the bar, pick them up and return them to the tables for the men. You will get catcalled, you will probably get the odd slap on the ass, but otherwise, we’re just the wait staff. Show plenty of cleavage, shake your ass, you get good tips.” Shelly smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You’re good to go, honey. Don’t worry if you’re a little shaky at first. The men love the coy ones.”

The smile you returned to her was tight, and you suddenly regretted this spur of the moment decision. “Are there other wait staff?” you enquired, and Shelly pointed to the bar, where three other girls in bunny costumes were chatting.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you. They don’t bite.” She took your hand, tugging you towards them, and you followed, wondering if you looked as nervous as you felt. “Girls, this Y/N. Y/N, this is Janice, Lucy and Tamara.” The girls waved and said hello, smiling widely at you, and you gave a little wave back. “Y’all better get ready. Any trouble -”

“Tell Frank,” the girls replied in chorus, giggling, and Shelly smiled before walking off. You stood, somewhat awkwardly, before one of the girls came over. She was taller than you, and looked almost like a supermodel with dark flawless skin that was minimally covered by the bunny outfit.

“I’m Tamara,” she offered, placing a hand on your bicep. “You’re gonna be fine, sweetie. It ain’t so bad here, and the tips are really good.”

“Just stick to your tables,” one of the other girls said, pushing off of the bar. “We’ve got a bachelor party coming in tonight. Janice called this one, so steer clear. You can get plenty of good tips from the other tables.” Her tone was a little clipped, as though you were competition, but you knew you weren’t planning on this as a career, so you ignored it.

Music started to thump through the club, and all three of the other bunny girls moved away, leaving you to stand there feeling a little lost. The bartender emerged from the back rooms, smiling at you, and you smiled back, watching and waiting. Slowly, men started to filter in, taking seats and ordering drinks from the other waitresses. Shelly reappeared, nudging you gently.

“Over there. Ben’s a regular, he’s harmless. Go take his order.”

You sucked in a breath and moved, heading over to the older looking gentleman in his worn suit, and he grinned at you as you approached. “You must be new,” he commented. “I don’t forget the pretty faces in here.”

The smile that came to your face was unbidden, but Ben seemed nice enough. He ordered a whiskey on the rocks, and you returned to the bar, fetching his drink. As the evening wore on, the club filled up and the bachelor party entered, loud and already drunk, and you watched carefully as you managed your few tables.

“He’s new,” Janice commented, as she waited at the bar for the party orders, while you fetched a drink for a man who looked to be well into his seventies. “I’ve never seen him around here before. Handsome though. Real Daddy looking type.” You frowned at her, and she pointed over to one of the previously empty tables. Sat comfortably in the leather chair was John, his eyes centered on the stage where a woman was lewdly dancing around the pole. “You want him?”

That was a loaded question. Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched his head turn, his eyes locking onto you and a small smile tugging at his lips. Janice chuckled behind you, nudging you in the back.

“Oh, he wants you, honey. I know that look.” You swallowed at her words, before picking up your tray. “Go get him, tiger. He’ll tip big.”

You knew he wouldn’t, but you moved across the room anyway, dropping off your orders on the way. John watched you carefully as you came towards him, sitting forward in his seat.

“What are you doing here?” you hissed, and John grinned up at you, gesturing to the room, but his eyes remained on you.

“Enjoying the view,” he replied, his gaze raking over your body and you suddenly felt naked in front of him. “I caught a regular. Persuaded him to add me as his guest for the evening.”

“You paid someone off?” you asked, frowning. “I thought we agreed I could do this.”

“And I’m not disputing that, Kitten,” he purred, leaning back again. “But I’m not the sort of guy to let anyone walk into a situation without backup. He tugged at his jacket, opening it enough to show you his sheathed machete under the leather. “Unless you found somewhere in that outfit to hide yours?”

“It’s in my bag in the back,” you muttered, seeing Shelly watching you. “I gotta look busy here, John. What can I get you?”

He smiled, one hand brushing at his beard as he kept dragging his eyes over you. “Johnny Walker. Straight.” With a sharp nod, you turned away, heading for the bar, aware of John’s gaze burning into your ass as you walked. It didn’t help that your hips decided they had a mind of their own and swayed a little more as you walked.

“Everything okay?” Shelly asked, coming up beside you as you waited for John’s order. “That guy seems intense.”

“He’s fine,” you replied, smiling. “Just flirting.”

“Well, he can’t order off menu with the wait staff,” Shelly said, leaning over the bar. “You do that outside of work hours.” The insinuation was clear, but before you could rebuff that idea, she was gone, and you returned to your waiting duties, taking John his drink. He was watching the bachelor party now, but every so often, you’d catch him staring at you. 

It was nearing midnight when Janice passed you, stuffing a handful of bills into her cleavage, and you smiled brightly at her. “Good night?” you asked, and her smile grew.

“You betcha. Just gonna go secure this. No room for a purse in this thing, huh?”

“No,” you laughed, watching her disappear into the back. Heading back over to John, you bent down, picking up his empty glass. “I’ll get you another. If you sit here without a drink, they’ll kick you out.”

“Gotcha.”

Standing straight, your eyes drifted to the bachelor party, where Janice was all over one of the men, whispering in his ear. You frowned, looking to the door behind you where you were sure Janice had just disappeared. “John…” you growled, watching as the Janice at the party table started to pull the man away from the group. “It can look like anyone else.”

He sat up straight, looking over at the party, seeing the other bunny girl lead the man towards a back exit. “Shit, you sure?”

“Unless Janice has super speed, she just went out to the dressing room. That is not her.”

John stood, and you moved back to the bar, putting the tray down and skirting around the rest of the room towards the back corridor the fake Janice had just led the man down. John appeared a second behind you, keeping to the shadows, and you hoped none of the other staff had seen you.

“They’re occupied,” John whispered, as if he could read your mind, and he slowly unsheathed his machete, handing you a gun. You took it, unclipping the safety, holding it aloft as you both moved down the hallway.

A grunt sounded, echoing through, and you moved faster, John at your side as the hallway looped around to the alleyway fire exit. It was half open, and you heard a cry of pain, just before John took off, bursting through the door. You followed, skidding to a halt at the sight of fake Janice, half transformed into a grotesque and twisted pink slimy creature, its huge maw gaping as it hung over the struggling man on the dirty floor. It was roughly humanoid, but bulging unevenly all over, rippled with sinewy skin and disfigured features.

“Two legs, Kitten,” John shouted, just as the monster turned, screeching at you both. The man rolled away, sobbing, scrambling to his feet. “Run!” John ordered, and the victim did as he said, prompting the Patasola to screech in anger. “You lost, sweetheart?” The quip made you grin, but it seemed to piss the monster off even more. Spittle and drool dripped from its jaws and you fired the gun, hitting it in the shoulder. It rocked back but didn’t fall, its focus shifting to you.

“Shit!” you cried, and John swung the machete, just as the Patasola lunged, avoiding the blow. It shouldered John in the stomach, sending him flying across the alleyway, before running for you. You moved to get out the way, but the heels unbalanced you, and you fell, one shoe flying off as the monster landed on you, jaws snapping and dripping slobber onto you. Planting your hands on its shoulders, you pushed hard, trying to stop it from getting its teeth into you.

“Y/N!” John shouted, and the creature snapped, only an inch from your face and pushing down. You looked from side to side, spotting your heel, and an opportunity. As the monster snapped at you again, you let go, grabbing the shoe and slamming the heel into one of its eyes with a disgusting squelch. It screamed in pain, rearing back off of you.

John swung the machete, lopping the things head off, and the scream stopped abruptly, ending with a dull thud and crunch as the head hit the floor and rolled away. Its body slumped, almost crushing you, and you grimaced at the struggle to get away.

“You okay there, Kitten?” John asked, helping you to your feet. You nodded, before turning and locating the severed head, plucking your discarded shoe from its eye. Making a face at the gross fluids covering it, you held it up, looking over at John. “I’d say that was a success.”

“You would?” You looked at him, and he grinned, still panting slightly. “Ugh. This is disgusting.”

“I’m gonna clean this up,” he said, gesturing to the corpse on the floor. “You go get your stuff. Club will be shutting soon, and you left your machete in there.”

“Right.” A sigh left your lips, as you realised you needed to clean the gore off before you went back in, and you’d probably have to answer some questions. “I’ll see you back at the motel.”

John nodded, his eyes on yours as he slipped his fingers around your elbow, holding you firmly for a few seconds. “Be careful.”

You smiled up at him, feeling the heat of his skin almost setting yours alight. “I will be.”

*****

When you finally returned to the motel room, you were comfortably dressed again in your regular pants and shirt, with no more heels to deal with, and three hundred dollars extra in your pocket. John was sat at the table in the kitchenette as you slipped through the door and dropped your bag, looking over at him.

“I was starting to get worried,” he commented, picking up his beer bottle from in front of him and gesturing to the one he’d obviously laid out for you.

You gave him a tight smile, walking over to pick it up and take a sip, finding it still pleasantly cool. “I was fine. Got a good wad of cash to see us through too. Apparently it’s a profitable career path.” Turning away, you missed the look on John’s face at your statement. You moved towards your bed, bending to take your boots off. “Do you mind if I grab a shower?”

“Not at all.” His voice was closer than you’d expected, and you stood straight, turning to find him right behind you, eyes dark and lidded, his gaze fixated on your mouth.

“John?” you whispered, your mouth suddenly as dry as the Sahara.

“Seeing you all dolled up like that…” he paused, one of his large hands coming to rest on your hip and you sucked in a breath that did nothing to help the tightness in your chest at his proximity. “All those men with their eyes on you… that never happens again.”

“I was joking about the career path,” you replied, your tone light but your entire body trembling. John’s lips quirked upwards at that, and you pulled your head back to look at him a little easier without straining your eyes. “John?”

“Kitten?”

“Were you jealous?”

He chuckled, dropping his eyes for a second before looking back into yours. “I was. I’m jealous of any man who looks at you, who gets to touch you -” His thumb grazed over your hip, tugging on the waistband of your pants as he spoke, and he sighed, closing his eyes for a brief second. “I shouldn’t be even this close to you, but it’s been so  _ fucking  _ hard to ignore everything.”

You blinked at his words, feeling your head tilt a little to the side, contemplating what he had said. “E-everything?” The stutter was unbidden, but by now, your heart was beating so loudly, you were sure they could hear it in the next room. John’s thumb kept moving, brushing your skin, sending a flood of moisture to your core.

“The way you move. The way you fight. The way your body moulds into mine when I’m showing you how to shoot.” He grunted, his other hand coming up, gripping your chin between his thumb and index finger. “There’s not a single thing about you that doesn’t drive me crazy. And it shouldn’t because you’re so fucking  _ young _ .”

“Age is just a number,” you replied breathlessly, wondering if you had the balls to just press up onto your tiptoes and kiss him.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t deserve you,” he said, and you felt his body press into yours, the hard lines of him sending electricity pulsing through your veins. “But this feels so goddamn real.” He paused. “Is it real?”

You nodded, reaching up to grip his thick bicep for balance as your head spun with arousal. “It’s real,” you whispered. “It’s  _ very  _ real.”

It was almost synchronised, the way you moved towards each other; John’s hands tugged your waist to pull you close, and you planted both hands on the back of his head, threading through his thick dark hair as your lips met. There was nothing gentle about it at all as you came together, tongues clashing and fingers grasping. John grunted when you pulled on his hair, his grip on your waist returning the pressure in kind.

When you broke apart, you were gasping for air, and gasping for him, but your earlier need for a shower came roaring back. After the fight and all night in the tight corset, you felt gross, and you didn’t want to give a bad first impression.

“I hate to stop this when we’re just getting started but I  _ really _ do need a shower.” You smiled against his lips, millimetres from yours, feeling his cock twitch against your belly.

“What a coincidence,” he said, grinning widely. “So do I.”

His low tone swept through you with heady arousal, and you giggled, pulling him backwards. He lifted your shirt, pulling it over your head as you unbuckled his belt, both of you undressing each other as you stumbled across the room and into the bathroom. It was a small wonder that you didn’t go tumbling over with how you were grabbing at each other, and if you’d been asked later, you wouldn’t be able to say who turned the water on, because you couldn’t remember your hands being anywhere but on John’s skin.

The spray was cold at first, but neither of you cared, too busy swallowing down each other’s taste. John groaned as you nipped at his neck, his fingers kneading your ass as he ground his bare erection into your belly. As the water heated up, he turned you around, letting his cock rest against the cleft of your ass as his hands cupped your breasts.

“John -” you whined, letting your head fall back against his shoulder. Your hair was already damp on your shoulders, and John groaned loudly as you reached between your bodies and slipped your fingers around his thick erection, pumping him slowly and awkwardly in the position he held you.

“When we’re done in here, I’m gonna spend all night making you scream my name, Kitten,” he growled, thrusting up into your hand, his fingers rolling and pinching your achingly hard nipples. “You want that?”

“God, yes,” you gasped. One of his hands dropped from your breast to cup your sex, his fingers easily sliding through your drenched folds, and you yelped as he brushed your clit. John’s breathing was heavy in your ear as he focused his attention on opening you up, first with one finger as he bent his hand to press his thumb against your clitoris. “Fuck -” The single word was almost choked by the spray of the shower, but you were too far gone to care. It had been a long time since any man had touched you this way.

“That’s it, baby girl. Come for Daddy.”

The sultry tone of his voice, combined with his heavy panting and the feeling of a second finger spreading you open made you whimper loudly, your legs shaking as you completely lost the rhythm of your hand on his cock. Your fingers released him, but John didn’t complain, pressing his cock against your back as he angled his hand to push deeper into you.

“Daddy…” you whispered, feeling your orgasm swell and pulse in your belly, wanting to see how he’d respond to you calling him that. The reception was even better than you expected, as his cock jumped against your ass, and he pumped his fingers hard, blunt teeth scraping over the spot just below your ear.

“Fucking dirty girl,” he growled. “Knew you’d have all sorts of kinks.” You cried out as his thumb pressed harder onto your clit, and you felt the familiar tightening of bliss in your pussy. “Come on my fingers, sweetheart. Show me what you’ve got.”

It was a cascade of pleasure that made your body jerk in his arms, and you weren’t even ashamed that you were moaning like a porn star. John kept whispering, encouraging you, his fingers plunging into you over and over until you were a shuddering mess of nerves, held up by his arms on shaking legs. You didn’t need to turn to know he was smirking at his triumph.

“You sound amazing when you come,” he murmured, his words sending fresh tremors through you. He withdrew his fingers from your body, kissing a path along your neck. “You wanna wash up or can I fuck you first?”

You weren’t even sure how to answer that verbally, but your hips replied for you, rolling backwards into his erection, making him groan and thrust back. 

“Mmmm, you want my cock, sweetheart?” You nodded bonelessly, giving no protest as John guided you against the wall, his hand moving to raise your right leg up, bending it at the knee. Automatically, you pushed your ass towards him, and he chuckled, pulling the upper half of his body backwards to look down at the view. “Damn. It’s even better than in my dreams.”

“You dreamed about me, huh?” you teased, although your voice was choked by arousal. John’s hand tapped your ass lightly, and your body tensed underneath him. A second later, the blunt head of his cock rubbed against you, sliding between your folds with a resulting moan from your lips. Your fingers curled against the wall, and you felt his thigh press against yours. “John, please -” you begged, cutting off when his cock dipped into you, less than an inch, but enough for you to feel just how fucking big he was.

His hand pressed flat against the wall underneath your bent knee, holding you up as he balanced his weight, and inch by inch, he sank into you, both of you moaning in tandem at the connection. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling the throb and pulse of your own arousal, almost like you could feel his heartbeat inside you.

“God, you feel fucking amazing,” he panted, his mouth against the spot between your shoulder blades, his hot breath mingling with the spray to tickle your over-sensitive skin.

Slowly, he started to move, rotating his hips and bending his knees as he rocked up into you, drawing all the way out before easing back in, stimulating every single sweet spot you had. Whimpers and gasps were all you had to give, and they bounced off of the enclosed tile walls, mixing with the sound of the spray and John’s low snarls of pleasure.

“Harder,” you pleaded, needing to feel him deeper, and he grunted, dropping your leg and taking a second to pull you back against him. You placed your hands against the wall, using the leverage to push back onto his cock, matching him thrust for thrust. He growled, his hands gripping your hips with a bruising force as he slammed into you, the length of his cock feeling like it might split you in two.

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking wet, feel so good wrapped around my dick, Kitten,” John panted, his head thrown back as your walls flexed around him. With a keening wail, you fell over the edge, hands sliding against the tiles as you tried to keep your balance, your climax overwhelming you.

The slippery shower floor made it hard to gain a purchase, and John pulled away, turning you in his arms as you attempted to recover from the sudden orgasm and sudden movement. His cock was pinned between you, hard as steel, just like the rest of him.

“I want you in a bed,” he grunted, one hand tangling in your hair. You opened your mouth to respond, only to find your words and breath stolen away by his lips, and you vaguely registered him reaching around you to turn the shower off. He dropped his hands to your thighs, lifting you into his strong arms, and you mewled as the length of his cock pressed against your throbbing pussy. “I want you underneath me. Want you begging.”

It was a short trip back into the bedroom, and neither of you cared that you were soaked to the skin. The sheets grew damp the second John deposited you on the mattress, and you spread your legs to his view, indulging yourself with the sight of his hard, naked body stood at the end of the bed. He curled one hand around his cock, pumping himself slowly as his eyes drank you in.

“What do you want, baby?” he asked, smirking as you dug your heels into the bed, panting heavily with arousal.

“You,” you replied, never taking your eyes off of him as he placed one knee on the bed, leaning down towards you. Without stopping, he dropped between your legs, licking a stripe along your soaked cunt, and you cried out, your hands automatically clutching his head. It was a fight not to buck and clench your thighs together but John felt the tension in you, holding your legs open with his hands as he feasted on you. “Daddy -”

“Goddamn, I love that,” he snarled, barely taking his mouth off of you, the low timbre of his voice vibrating through you. His tongue thrust against your clitoris, before sliding down and pushing into you hard. It was more than you could bear, and your fingers curled into his hair, pulling hard as you came again on his tongue. Everything was too heightened, too sharp - he could play you like a fine instrument, make you scream on key.

His mouth abandoned you, and you surrendered your hold on his hair, arching your head back on the pillows as you closed your eyes and tried to recover your breath. When you opened your eyes again, he was kneeling in the same place, but upright, touching himself again and smiling down at you. It was not a wholesome smile - more predatory and you were directly in his sights.

Swallowing hard, you locked your eyes on his, pushing up onto your elbows. “Fuck me, John.”

His hands hooked under your knees, dragging you down the bed towards him, before he hauled you into his lap, leaving bruises where his fingers grabbed at you. You gasped, holding yourself up as you straddled him, arms around his neck as you felt him line up his cock with your entrance. His fingers were around your hips, and he eased you down onto his length, until you were panting with the full feeling of him inside you, deeper than he had been before. He dropped his head into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily against your skin as he allowed you a moment to adjust to the new sensation.

“So fucking hot and wet,” he whispered adoringly. “You take me so well, baby girl.”

You clung to his neck, feeling your walls twitch around him, and he grunted, his hips jerking up into you. A yelp fell from your lips at the movement, which pressed the length of his cock even deeper into you, and you knew you’d be feeling it tomorrow. Taking charge in that second, you pulled back, making him look at you as you start to move up and down in his lap, getting as much height as you could without letting him fall free.

John kissed you then, his hands encouraging your movements, and you felt the mattress give under your knees with each thrust. Your breasts were crushed against his chest, both of you still soaked and slippery against each other, and you could taste water droplets on his lips, mingled with the taste of his sweat.

“Beautiful, look at you,” he muttered, breaking away for a moment. “Never thought I’d have you like this.”

“John, I can’t…” 

“Yeah, you can. Just one more for me, sweetheart. I’m close.”

“John…”

He growled, one hand still holding your hip as the other dragged up to grab your hair again, forcing your head back a little to bare your throat to him. “One more. Come on, baby girl. Come all over Daddy’s cock.”

His words were like a drug induced haze that washed over you and through you, and you lost yourself to the sensation of pleasure, of his cock slamming into you. You weren’t sure if it was you that screamed - it sounded so far away, almost drowned out by the sound of blood rushing in your ears. John’s mouth was on your throat, suckling a mark into the skin as his hips stuttered and he thrust once more before his entire body tensed.

Warmth pulsed through you, and you felt slick and sweaty on top of him. His fingers released your hair, and you rolled forward into his hold, your mouth open as you panted against his shoulder. He stroked the skin of your shoulder, breathing just as heavily as you did.

“Gotta move, Kitten,” he whispered, shrugging his shoulder slightly to jostle you. “My thighs are cramping.” There was a hint of amusement in his tone, and you smiled lazily as you moved backwards off of him, collapsing onto the bed with your eyes shut. John shifted off of the mattress onto the floor, standing straight and stretching with a groan.

“That was… so good…” you said, feeling lassitude spread through your limbs. John chuckled, picking up his boxers from the trail of clothes you’d both left on the floor.

“So good?” he asked. “I’m gonna have to do better than that.”

You giggled, opening your eyes to look at him. “Still need a shower,” you commented, and he laughed, tossing aside the boxers once he’d cleaned himself off, before he climbed back onto the bed beside you. “You wanna help me scrub my back?”

John smirked, gathering you into his arms, holding you close and pressing his lips to yours in a more relaxed but still heated kiss. “Leave the shower. I wanna know just how dirty you can get.”


End file.
